InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Winds ❯ In the Shadow of Thorns ( Chapter 14 )

Chapter 13

Shadows of Thorns

 

On the long walk back to the village, no one noticed that Shippou, the only one who seemed missing, had indeed been following them. Rather, he had been following Kagome, as he liked to do when he could get away from whatever caretaker he had been assigned. He did not trust Inuyasha completely when he said that Kagome was his mate. The scents were right, but did he act differently? He just…touched her more. His hands were always on her, as if he were guiding her every footstep, but did that really mean that he wouldn't run off to Kikyou in the middle of the night?

If he did, then Shippou would come and beat him, no matter how strong Inuyasha was….because that was the worst thing that could happen, now that he had a family again.

Peering between the tall reeds and grass, Shippou watched along the path. He had kept up with Kagome, until Inuyasha had taken her, and following her scent was slow. Now, he could hear them coming back, all of them, and his nose twitched, picking out the scents of their multiple companions. Inuyasha and Kagome had been joined by Sango, Kouga, Kohaku and Kikyou!

 

Kikyou is coming? Why is she coming? If Inuyasha is bringing her, Kagome will not like that at all. Even if she doesn't say anything.

 

He was older than they thought, except maybe Inuyasha, and he was smarter, too. If Kikyou came to stay, there would be trouble. When Kikyou came, there was always trouble.

 

 

“…And he came right up, very fast, and caught my leg - “

“What are you talking about anyway, Sango?”

 

Shippou grinned. It was Sango, being interrupted by Inuyasha. She was stuttering now, denying any importance in the conversation, and Inuyasha was not one to care.

 

“Fine, talk about nothing more quietly, then.”

He couldn't see her face, but he knew she was scowling at Inuyasha's rudeness, the same as always. Usually, there was Miroku between them, or Kagome, but Miroku was gone and Kagome was no longer capable of reprimanding Inuyasha in the same way. He still wore the beads of subjugation, but in the time since he had claimed her Shippou had never once heard `Osuwari' pass her lips…and not for a time before, either, if he was remembering correctly.

It had been Inuyasha who would not take them off, and Inuyasha who insisted that it was just because she had saved him once with them, and it could someday, maybe, happen again. Shippou knew that it was because once, he had…changed….and in the bloodlust, the beads could save her from him - someday, maybe. Inuyasha was afraid.

 

“I do not understand why this boy is allowed to live. He serves the enemy - the enemy of all of us.”

That was Kouga, and Shippou could not understand his vehemence, having missed the forest confrontation. In the dimness, he could see the glow of Kouga's eyes, bright and yellowing with his passion, with the reason that Shippou could not understand.

They were walking past him now, and Shippou sat back in the grass, astonished. Kikyou, draped across Kouga's arms? If Inuyasha allowed such a thing, then perhaps he was really cured of desire for the dead priestess. Kohaku was sleeping, or unconscious, in Sango's arms. Her face was blank, dazed, her eyes dull and without reflection. She had not been that way for a long time. Inuyasha strode along ahead, as usual, and Shippou paid him no attention, because Kagome was not in his arms or on his back, but wandering along a pace behind Sango, turning a shining pink shard over and over in her hands.

 

Shikon no tama! Is it from Kohaku?! But then…he would be dead, and he would smell…of death…

 

He slunk carefully onto the path behind Kagome, watching, testing scents from the fresh air their owners had just passed through. Kohaku's scent smelled only of himself, and Naraku. Death lingered, but it was not of the boy. Not too long ago, they had been together…but who knew how far Kohaku had been sent to find them, and by what means?

The foursome was getting out of sight now, while he stood here in the middle of the path. Could he catch up quietly, and continue to listen, or should he move past them if he could, and reach the village first?

 

Then Kagome won't scold me, and I'll be able to go out with her tomorrow if she is going into the woods.

 

Quick as the thought, he scampered into the brush, and then ran quickly down through the grass towards the village. He passed them by again, but did not pause to listen. There were angry words, Sango's words, and Kouga's, and a low ease of calmness from Kagome.

 

Will they even make it home in one piece? Kouga had best be careful…Inuyasha's been spoiling for a fight.

 

He had no doubt that in a confrontation, Inuyasha would kill Kouga, and glory in it, and make Kagome very sad. This was both good, and bad, but if nothing else, Shippou was glad of one thing. Kagome needed a mate, and he was glad she had chosen her strongest suitor - the one who could protect her best.

 

~-~

Kaede stood from her place beside the fire as they tramped through, many more than had left, but no surprise showed no her features until her eyes touched on the unconscious features of her dead sister's face.

“Ehh…Inuyasha, Kagome…Sango…and you are Kouga, the wolf prince, yes? How do you come to bring my sister here?”

She said nothing about Kohaku's presence, detecting strings of anger loose in the air and all of them poised like darting snakes over the boy's head. Sango's face was tight, the tightness that gathers the corners of the eyes when you try not to cry. There was a scream in the tight lines of her throat, an unsettled tic in her motions - as if a monster slept beneath her skin, and her skin knew, and distrusted the concealment.

“You are…the Lady Kaede? Then the Houshi spoke true. I did not believe that you could be sister to m- to Kikyou. I found her. That boy - he had something that hurt her. She will not wake up!”

There was distress in his voice, actual distress, and Kaede looked at him oddly, trying to feel him out and finding him very…strange.

“Bring her here, then…and Kohaku too, Sango. It look like the four of you have some things to discuss. I will care for them.”

Slowly, Sango gave up her burden, and then went to sit by the fire. Kagome followed her, always quick with comfort, but Kouga did not intend to give the slayer woman a moment of rest. One who served Naraku, and they would aid the boy? He could not understand why.

“Woman, you must - “

Easily, her words slid over his and cut them off.

“It's no good, Kouga. It's very simple. He serves Naraku because of a cursed shikon shard, which both keeps him alive and puts him under the influence of evil. Kohaku is not evil, and so I will not let you kill him.”

With a wry twist of the eyebrows, Kouga rested his elbow on his knee and looked across the fire at Sango's steady anger.

“The shard keeps him alive, and you are collecting the pieces. Someday, someone - you, or Naraku - must take it from him, and then he will die. If you kill him now, you will save many lives. You will achieve vengeance for all those he has already murdered.”

Sango's face stayed the same, but they could all see something inside her collapse, folding inward like a piece of paper crushed in someone's hand.

“That may be, but…he is still my brother. He is the only family I have left.”

Kagome reached forward, lay a hand on Sango's shoulder, but there was really no comfort for her. Kouga spoke of vengeance for the dead, without knowing that the worst of the dead had been family, and friends.

“If he awakens, and he attacks, I will kill him no matter what words you throw at me, woman.”

Kouga held out his right hand, which still bore the marks of acid-burning wounds, and flexed his fingers.

“This was caused by the blood of your brother. Maybe once he was human, and someone you could love. What is he now?”

He fell silent, and withdrew his blistered hand, and turned to look at Kikyou, still unconscious, laying flat beside Kohaku while her sister tended them. It was only possible for him to truly believe all of the story now that he was here, looking at relationships like bright burning lines in the air. That old woman was his Kikyou's sister…and there was a strain between Kagome and Inuyasha now, a distance in her eyes, a tenseness in his face.

Kikyou and Kohaku lay, oblivious, unmoving, unconscious, in the light of the crescent moon that came through the open doorway. A breeze passed through the room, lifting the heat that pounded on them from the air and from the cooking-fire that burned in the center of the floor.

Stillness fell over them, and silence. In the distance a wolf howled at the taunting sliver of the moon, and Kouga let his head fall back, and the sound filled his ears, and he felt clean, awake, fulfilled. It was a deep, senseless feeling.

“Kouga, you come outside with me, now.”

He did not feel danger in Inuyasha's words, only the hint of a threat, and with the echo of that single wolf-note in his ears fear could not touch him.

“Why not? Don't trip over the girls, Inuyasha. I think they're sleeping.”

A growl rippled out of Inuyasha, lifted itself at him and then retreated. Kouga did not balk at the tone, stood and padded out under the stars. A billion galaxies wheeled overhead, bursting-eyed nebulae stringing a wide breath of incandescent beauty between the thousands of pinpoints, bathing the curve of the land with an aura of silver light.

Inuyasha followed him, but did not stop for the sky.

“You know I will not let you kill the boy.”

Kouga only sighed.

“I thought you would say something like that. It is stupid to keep him alive, you know. Even now, Naraku could be back inside him, spying through his flesh. I put nothing past Naraku - nothing.”

Inuyasha folded his arms, and twitched his ears impatiently.

“I know it is stupid. He should have been dead already, but he isn't, and Sango wishes him to stay alive. You do not help anything by hurting her.”

Though surprised by the unexpected show of sensitivity from Inuyasha, Kouga did not let a change of expression touch his face.

“I will not touch him - if he does not attack again.”

Inuyasha shook his head slowly, and the fingers of one hand tightened imperceptibly in the cloth of his haori.

“And tell me, Kouga, why it is that you care? Why is it that you care so much, when it is Kikyou he has come for?”

Suddenly the starlight was heavier than lead, and Kouga heard a ringing echo in his ears, the warning of the Houshi's voice, the numbness of Kagome. Deeper than that, there was a voice that laughed, and shouted for the challenge, and wanted the world to know that she was his woman.

“It doesn't matter who he comes for, he is a servant of Naraku. Destroying him will weaken Naraku - do we have any other aim?”

Inuyasha shook his head slowly, and the tightness of his fingers was spreading, infecting his entire flesh.

“I can see it when you look at her, and when you were holding her. Do you think you can have Kikyou now, since you cannot have Kagome? Do you think she would have you?”

Now, Kouga felt only anger. So superior, so arrogant, and he was only a half-breed!

“Have me? She is mine, Inuyasha, not yours, never again yours. I found her, and took her, and she is my willing woman, the thing Kagome would never be. She is more than Kagome, other, deeper, darker, and she is mine! Do you hear me, Inuyasha? Kikyou is mine!”

For a long moment, Inuyasha swayed on his feet, and his eyes grew wide, wider than coins. Between a snarl and laughter, he remembered a great flash of color, and light, and feeling, the love that had been for Kikyou. It stood like a wilted flower stands against a fresh bloom beside his feeling for Kagome.

“If you think that you can have her, and she will replace Kagome, you are wrong. They have the same face, but different hearts.”

“I know.”

“If you hurt her, then I will hurt you - you had better keep that in mind, wolf.”

That was all, and Inuyasha went back inside to Kagome, and Kouga followed him to sit by the side of Kikyou's pallet, and touch her hair, and her cheek, and reassure himself that she still breathed.

 

She has no heartbeat, but…she breathes. Part of her remembers being alive, and cannot let go.

 

This pleased him. In his heart, there was a hope of restoring her, but he had never heard that such a thing was possible. He wished…she would wake up.

~-~

 

Liquid drums soaked the bright and dancing night with sound and color. In the early hours of this celebration, there had been flutes, koto, lute - now, there were no fragments of sobriety large enough to produce such a coherent music. The air was reduced to a pounding, swirling thud, rich with the tones of skin and mallet.

Unsteady feet matched the ringing tones, some dancing, some tapping in time. An abandoned ululation rose over the drum music, seized it with delirious melody and rolled down with it to a dangerous bed. On the edge of the revelry, Miroku wallowed in the mating of sounds and wondered why human music had no such tones in it for moments of furious content.

The wind moved well for a night so deep into the summer heat, and he turned his thoughts skyward, wondering, watching, sensing. Six cups of sake had muddled his mastery, and he was far from sure that she was not really there, but did it matter? If she had wanted to kill him - or try - there was no need to wait for a drunken youkai festival. Exactly what was being celebrated, he had not yet discovered. Perhaps it was only a celebration of hope.

Still, he kept his gaze turned skyward, his attention as tuned as it could be - and there was nothing. The stars were louder than the drums, the spaces between silent, the clouds smooth and thick in their passage.

“So, does this please you, Houshi?”

Surprised, but not startled, Miroku turned and bowed to his host.
”The sky or the festival, lord?”

A quick, thin grin raced across Dak's face, and evaporated.

“Whichever you prefer to discuss.”

“Both are pleasing, but it is the festival that interests me. Why tonight? Do you have a celebration like this for every guest?”

Laughter sounded near him, but he could not see Dak. The lynx was not behind him as he expected. To his left, there was a green flash, and he turned. As if he had been standing there all along, Dak gestured towards the gyrating collage of flesh and percussion

“You are the first chance that has come to us, Houshi. The tensions are greater than you could possibly imagine. I did not dare hope that a holy man would come to us, any more than I would dare to seek out such a one. By my very flesh, I am damned, and any such help would seek my destruction before I could ask for aid.”

Miroku was becoming lost among the words. They were dark and simple, but there was something ominous in them, an alarm that he could not hear, a warning that had passed before his eyes while he blinked.

“And why would a holy man aid me, even if I could find such a one, and survive? Aid a demon, in finding an place of holy powers and seeking its destruction? Better to die, and let such a power continue to grow. That would be their thought.”

Intense of eye, Dak watched Miroku's face, seeking a sign - of what, Miroku did not know.

“What about you, Houshi? Why is it that you will help me?”

 

Ah. So the hunter does not trust his instincts, when one who should be prey leaps up and bares his throat for the slaughter…or so he thinks. Does he not realize that the world is a dark and singular place, its patterns laid out in stripes of black and white? Even I have seen this…

 

“I have told you the truth, Dak. The rot that spreads from the north is Naraku. He is my sworn enemy. I have come south, seeking a mountain which is rumored to be the holiest place - a place where Naraku can not venture and where my curse may be removed.”

“You are cursed? Show me!”

There was worry and anger in Dak now. A cursed priest did not seem like a wise choice to make, but was there any other choice?

“This is not the place, Dak. It is dangerous - “

“It has already been dangerous! To bring a curse here, to my home.”

Menace was beginning to lurk in Dak's expression, all that was needed to remind Miroku that it was youkai he dealt with. Youkai courtesies are different than human courtesies, and the youkai penalty is death.

“Come with me, Dak. It is…not the kind of curse you think. I am a danger to no one but myself, unless I choose.”

Miroku stepped out into the wild trees away from the den, a hundred steps, and then five hundred. The lights of the fires and torches had faded to a flicker of yellowish glow between the leaves, and he stopped Dak from following him further with his bare hand.

From the wrapped hand, he unwound the sacred beads, and suddenly everything was wind. Like a concentrated gust from a thousand tornadoes, the air rushed screaming towards Miroku's open palm. Staring down the edge of the space where the angle of the wind faded, Dak saw a black vortex that pulled his gaze downward into a frictionless abyss. The leaves on the trees moved like streamers, and then flew free of their branches. In a moment's time, trees were leaning on their roots, and the earth beneath them was fled up in rich brown swirl that led infinitely into the abyss. Miroku closed his fingers over the binding silk, and wrapped the shining beads quickly over it again. He opened his palm, faced it towards Dak, and the wildcat Lord flinched. It was instinctive. Nothing happened. The lines of beads bound the black power back, but he could still sense it, a dark motivation seeking once more to leap free, and consume.

“You are a dangerous man, Houshi. Where does this curse come from? Do you not appreciate its power?”

Miroku spoke quietly, and led Dak back towards the center of the dancing, a different path than the one they had taken into the trees.

“This is the curse of Naraku. It is a powerful weapon, but it is my greatest enemy. If I cannot get rid of it soon, it will devour me - as it devoured my father, and my grandfather. As it would devour my sons - if I had any. It was my task to make sure that there was a son, to carry forward the vengeance and the power, but perhaps it is best that I have not done. Why should another child inherit this endless curse, this endless quest?”

They were back amongst the dancers, and Miroku's last few words were almost lost amidst the stomping, pounding thud of feet. Shouting to be heard over the music, Dak shook Miroku's shoulder to hold his attention.
”Are you really leaving tomorrow, Houshi? Are you going so soon?”

“I'm done with waiting. Tomorrow, in the morning.”

 

 

The early morning light was brighter than any of the waking eyes desired it, but there was no time to lay about and complain. Those who had over indulged during the riotous night paid their price. Others, with glances half-amused and half-scornful, took up the slack.
A holy man had come to them, and been honored for the aid he offered, and who among them would stop to point out to their lord that it was a most unusual arrangement, indeed an arrangement without precedent? All the indications were that Dak knew better than any of the rest of them how strange it was - but there was no other choice, no other way at all.

Miroku wandered a few well-chosen hallways near the surface, awaiting a summons Dak had assured him would be `Soon'. Impatience turned his thoughts, brought him to strange and unexpected things. Warriors passed him, their faces turned aside; hunters, different only in their weapons. He saw females, their eyes dark and bold, their movements shy, compulsive. They slunk by him and around corners, and the gleam of their eyes was somehow always the last thing to go.

In his endless travels he had seen several noble women, outside the rustic provinces, women kept in curtained rooms by the old traditions. But even those women, with their Chinese sleeves and sweeping hair, with their fans and whisper-soft voices, did not present such an evasive façade as these lynx.

Despite himself, he was intrigued. When his eyes were not so thoroughly occupied, he berated himself, but a lingering image persisted. There was something in these lynx women that he wanted - a darkness, a compelling sense of the mysterious. With a hand over his eyes, he brought himself to the thought of Sango, the smoothness of her features, the soft curves, her strength.

The image was dark as he tried to recall it, but then he could see her as she had been when he left her. White bandages against her creamy skin, a strong scent of medicinal herbs, and she had not seemed very strong at all. A tight frown had lingered at the corner of her mouth, as though she had no patience for her own healing.

 

And I do not know if she is recovered, or ailing…even if she lives or has left this world.

 

He could not think `dead' to himself. How much better it would have been - to be not a holy man, or a cursed man, but just a man!

“Houshi, it is time.”

Surprised, Miroku looked up at Dak's voice.

“Time?”

“It is all ready.”

He was led to the den entrance, where a small pile of supplies had been stacked, with the young Hiro waiting beside them.

“You remember me, Houshi-sama?”

Having been reprimanded, the kit seemed to have adopted a manner of extreme respect.

“I remember you, Hiro. I will bring your mother back safe, if I can.”

“If she was safe, she would have come back already!”

Miroku could only smile.

“Nevertheless, I shall do what I can to find her.”

A few others had come out to see him off; the curious, the gossips, the concerned. When the pack was strapped to his back, and he had arranged various items in pockets and taken up his staff, Dak came up beside him, and spoke lowly.

“My offer stands, Houshi. Are you sure you do not wish company on this journey?”
Just as low, Miroku replied.

“Stay, guard your den, protect your nephew. Do not venture north, and if other youkai come near to you, bringing news, save it for me. I will return this way.”

He stepped out into the jungle, and did not look back. After a moment only Dak was left watching him, a curious glitter at the edges of his eyes.

Even as he passed into the darkness of clutching greenery, Miroku felt the watchfulness and it tingled on his skin.

 

He is not as trusting as I thought. So - what is it that makes him so wary?

 

He did not stop walking, but his thoughts moved widely across several points that stood out at him suddenly, like glaring lights.

 

Kagura was sent by Naraku to approach Dak - but why? For what plot, what purpose, would he require a tribe of lynx youkai? The scent of Kagura disturbed them, and they sent her on her way, did not stop to listen to her. Is it that her scent lingers on me?

 

Miroku smiled grimly into the leaves. If that were indeed the case, then he might be in some trouble. If they tried to follow him, and seek out what it was that connected him to that scent, it would not be difficult. Eventually, Kagura would come to him, on some breeze when he was not expecting her.

Deep in thought, he paced a few weary miles through the jungle, and then felt a thinning of the branches near his face. He did not have to push so many creepers aside; vines did not grasp so often at his feet, or entangle his staff.

There came a cool wind, the air less steady and stagnant. Enlivened by his thoughts, he probed gently with his own aura, seeking Kagura. The flicker of presence that was her did not feel close, but there was awareness at the tip of his reach.

 

I will follow this presence of her. Perhaps this time I will surprise her.